


the mother tree

by Izzerslololol



Series: Mereel and the Galaxy [12]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss
Genre: Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 16:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10834755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzerslololol/pseuds/Izzerslololol
Summary: On occasion, Mereel finds a story requested of him. Sometimes, some stories, as fantastical as they may be, serve as a good reminder of the things we forget to do.





	the mother tree

**Author's Note:**

> "Tell me a story, Mer'ika."

Sit, little Bird, and listen for a while.

There is a tree of a forest, on a planet far from here, on the curve where land meets sky. Its branches spread, far, wide, high into the breath of the atmosphere and the star’s cold embrace, then curls down, down, spearing once more deep into the earth.

It takes little time, of course, for these branches to hunger for the warmth of the triple stars, and so they reach, peeking up once more to grow anew. To the untrained eye they are separate, uneven and unconnected, but I would remind you that though its sprouted from the ground its roots are no more roots than the veins and the arteries that anchor one’s limbs to one’s hearts.

Unknown, of course, to all but one. Of a long lived and forgotten people, one lone woman took upon herself to care for the grounds long forgotten by the ashes of civilizations past. She cared, as one could expect another to care for one’s beloved, one’s child, though it was not her burden to bear.

And yet, despite her love, for all the many millennia this forest has grown, spreading steadily through patience and perseverance–and protection of its true heart–not once had she ever seen it bloom. Yet, this tree is not unique in its kind, and many before have sprouted flowers with the seasons, fruits to bear on hanging fingers to fall to the ground for creatures to feast.

And yet this one? As the ages came and past, this one had yet to find its reason to. 

Time lingered on, as it is often wont to, and so this lone woman, Mother forgotten, cared as she did for the tree whose forest had eventually retaken all the land. Long lived as she was, even time can eventually call as enemy. Her bones grew weary, her eyes heavy, her heart tired.

So much love she had given to the forest, and not once would it bloom for her.

The triple suns continued to dance across the sky, leaving night to the fitful blues of the blanket of stars. When morning came, she did not rise–too tired, this day, to tend to her duties as she had done for many, many years.

What could one missed day become?

Do you know, little Bird?

Well, I will tell you.

Mother forgotten had never taken time upon herself. In all her care, and all her love given away, she’d forgotten to turn that love upon herself. And on this day, one day missed, in her exhaustion she had brought herself to stay within and focus upon herself a care she had neglected.

When the triple suns of the system breached the horizon, they birthed in fire so powerful there was a fear the eldest would consume the youngest very soon (but worry not, for that had been thwarted by the balance of the middle). The forest that caressed the gentle sky blossomed flowers. Soft, round, pearl-like things of curled petals so fragile as to tremble under the slightest breath. And, cradled in the heart of the forest, in the thickest of these blooms, the petals unfurled to reveal the shimmer of the unseen future, of the unshakable past, borne in the elegance of pearl shaped fruit.

And when Mother forgotten exited her hut, she fell to her knees in ungentle surprise. She did not cry, though she had all the right to–perhaps more-so than some, though that is not my argument to make. Instead she waited upon the ground, feeling the earth beneath her fingertips as the heart trembled beneath her, as the heat of the triple suns warmed the sky.

Time, it seemed, had nothing else to spare for her efforts, while the heart of the forest had an eternity of gifts to give. A planet’s worth, of course, of the sweetest fruit any have ever had the luck to taste. But so few do, on this planet forgotten, somewhere far far away.


End file.
